Dragons Of This New World
by Another Nerdy Writer
Summary: Once life was a pattern for them. With firsts of many leaps that changes. Introduced to the true world at a young age, they discover what bloodlines have to offer. With the power of a dragon and vampire king backing one, this family has to deal with so much more. A new world is revealed and as ages pass, wrath does not discriminate. These hatchlings will never know peace. AU
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I do not own the original property I am making a fanfiction of. All rights and ownerships are reserved to the original creator(s). I am merely making a fanfiction and make no profit from it. Same goes for any concepts and material from other properties that appear. Images used belong to the original creator(s).**

 **Rated M, for language, sex, violence, and other mature content.**

Author's Note: (Skip if you just want the story.)

As I get closer to publishing this I need to give a quick, "warning" to say. This will be a bit of a slow burn. A few chapters will pass and we won't be in the cliche start up. We'll get to Kuoh, but again, slow burn and all. I can't just have the setup for a character and be like, "X amount of years past. He banged all the bitches with tig 'ol bitties and got stupid powerful but _**Freed**_ of all people can hurt him" because that's not how I do things. With the ranting out of the way…

"Talking"

'Thinking'

{Scared Gear Spirit/Host talking to another mentally}

 **{Sacred Gear spirit speaking aloud.}**

~Break in POV, time, and or location. Example: "~Vritra, Primeval Era, Earth."

Hopefully the (~) and dash show up. Hopefully...

* * *

 _ **Chapter One: The Start Of The Rise and The Fall  
**_

* * *

~Kjartan. 12000 B.C.E Scandinavia

'Another morning…' He thought to himself. Pushing and kicking the sheets of hide and silk, Kjartan rose from his bed. He walked towards the railing, making sure that even the ever vigilant, Askel, would not hear him. As he reached the balstrode of his bedroom in the hall he was glad to see no one was around. The long fire pit strip was slightly burning, the bath was empty, and everything just seemed normal. Well, as normal as it could get. The strip of fire could be mistaken for one meant for a mead hall, and the bath was a circle he could swim in. But, with a muscled and tall father like Askel, such a thing was needed. Finally putting on his furs and leathers, after standing still for many minutes, he _slowly_ left the hall.

His eyes were met with the near black purple clouds of the morning. Each step made a crunch thanks to the snow. Even in the beginning of dawn he could see the white of snow covering it all. The fjord tops, the trees surrounding home, even the sea to the north, his left, had a thin sheet of ice coming from land. He neared the edge of the cliff, sitting and letting his legs drift. From the cliff top he could see the town below. 'If only today was one of _those days_.' He thought. Yes, he'd been in the village before, but something yearned in him to go down there and be amongst people. Here he was only with his parents. Oh, he loved them of course, but one needed more than family.

Father would always say, "If it wasn't for half of these people, I'd move the hall down here." While Kjartan laughed at the idea, he didn't quite understand the point. Half? Why was there a divide? Shouldn't _all_ people be united? Perhaps that was a mere whimsical dream of youth. He'd never know.

As for the town, he could, somehow, hear the faint ring of metal. Ah, smiths were already to work. The very small orbs of yellow light proved that. At the pier some were setting out into the fjord. In honesty it seemed a fool's errand, fishing in such conditions. 'Oh well, a man must make his living one way.' Now his thoughts drifted to the few children he knew in town. There was Ulf, a boy with black eyes and the same colored hair with wispy strands of blue. Barely falling past his ears. While he wanted to talk to the boy more, Father seemed rather advantageous towards him. Then there was Bjorn. A boy who lived up to his name. While both were seven, Bjorn was tall and muscled. Eyes sea blue and brown hair. His fell down, often having to be gathered and tied in the back. Lastly, there was Afia. She was a year younger then him, with hair so near blood red, it would be an insult to call it crimson. Her eyes matched her hair. The mane fell to her shoulder, often being brushed to her right. The day he met the girl was an odd one. Where meeting Ulf and his, Askel acted worrisome, and Bjorn's an easy neutral, he seemed more than happy to talk to the Jarl Aldon, Afia's father. Perhaps they had history? It was never spoke of often. While the two elders talked, Afia and Kjartan spoke. Talking of their favorite heroes and tales of the gods. Odin sacrificing his eye being his favorite, and Thor challenging the World Serpent being hers. While thinking of the memories brought a brief bit of joy to his heart, the emptiness afterwards left him cold. 'Things will get better,' he thought. 'They have to. This isn't... _living_.' That was his final thought before he heard it. A low and vicious growl of a dog. He stood and looked back at it.

A beast, both man and wolf. With a very muscular and animalistic body. Black fur showing sick blue flesh. Black eyes. Long hands and feet armed with claws. A Ulfhedinn of legend. "So they left you alone? I can smell her and your father." The beast laughed in a strange way. "You haven't attacked? So young, so _fresh!_. I'll be sure to report this… once I've had my fill." The beat got on all fours and lunged. Kjartan turned to the cliffside. He would have weighed his options, but now was the time to fly and not to fight. Jumping, he began his descent. It was a going to be a long fall. Realizing what would soon happen he started to cry. This was it. He closed his eyes. Best not to see it coming, the dread would only increase.

Yet he heard something.

It was like leather dancing on a flagpole with the wind at full force.

When he opened his eyes he turned his head. Side to side. Wings, similar to that of a bat but still different. The membranes were jet black and covered in scales. The skin between was leathery and colored a dark violet like his eyes. Almost on instinct he tried steering himself. It was a struggle trying to use these new... limbs. Nearing the ground he made a risky choice. He dived! The wings went back and above his legs. About thirty meters to the ground he pulled up. He crossed his arms to hide his face. He flew into branches and his wings smacked against trees. That was _painful._ Eventually, he crashed into ten too many trees and feel. As he layed there in the snow, he became tired. His head was spinning, his wings-that was strange to think of-were most likely broken. He was thankful that he was away from the beast, but now he had a new problem. Well a few actually. First off, he had glided a bit too far from home. With the addition of wings this opened a world of questions. Most beginning with 'How,' or 'Why.' Then there was the real headache. His parents. His life was far from a fairy tale, so explaining that he had wings was going to be a trial on its own.

'This… is terrible.' He thought. An overwhelming need for sleep came to him.

 **{Most interesting…}**

Kjartan was now in a strange… land? Impossible to tell. Wherever he was, it was made from nothing but black. The floor, wall, ceiling, everything. Hell, he was unsure if there were walls or a ceiling. The only thing being that said floor was stable ground. Thankfully. The most questioning thing was that damn voice. It had an elegant, almost posh attitude to it. While it sounded exhausted, above all it was animalistic. Powerful. Wherever the speaker is was also a question. It sounded mental _and_ external.

Suddenly, two violet orbs filled the void. Their size dwarfing Kjartan's body. Most noticeably was there was no white, only the violet and black slits. Even if he could not see the colossal body, what his eyes were met with bled with a power. Nearly intimidating him to kneel like a peasant to a king.

 **{You're weak, sadly, but I have plenty of hope in you. I must, or we're damned. And I would prefer not to be. Get back to it."** The eyes closed and he fell to the floor. Sleeping.

He woke to the sound of footsteps crushing snow and rhythm movement. He was being carried. As he opened his eyes, they locked with purple ones. A man with long jet black hair, fair skin, and a full and trimmed beard. Sharp handsome features if one was to say.

"Father," he said weakly. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to… do this. I got scared. A creature came charging at me and I cou-"

"Calm yourself child." Father interrupted. "I am not angered by your actions nor do I put any blame on you. Save your energy and try to fall back to sleep."

"But I need to tell you something. I have wings!" A pair of wings sprouted from Father's back! They differed from Kjartan's own both in size and color. Much larger and the leathery flesh was purple. They disappeared behind his back. He was flabbergasted.

"As I would expect a dragon like you to have." To say the least Kjartan's mind was spinning. Either his dad was making a strange joke… no, he also had wings!

"I'm a dragon? And you have wings.. does that mean…" His dad nodded. Kjartan was half awed and half amused. This stern and stoic man had more to him than his son ever thought.

"So mom is a dr-"

"No. There isn't a single trace of draconic blood in her. You on the other hand, your blood is half of it." This brought a bit of joy to Kjartan.

"So I'm still human?" The man was silent for a moment.

"Yes." Askel's gaze went back to the trail.

"So compared to you and others I'm… a weakling?" Suddenly the man stopped in his tracks.

"My son, never talk about yourself in such a way. You are my son. My heir. Yes, you're only half draconic, but that doesn't suppress the truth. Dragon blood, _my_ blood is in you. To others you will forever be a dragon." Now he smiled. "You might be seven but from this day forth, your mother and I shall raise you as we should've been. Gods, I can only imagine her face when we get to the hall."

As they approached home he was finally let down.

"I have an idea," his dad began with a smile. "Get your wings out before we enter the hall. That should tell her everything." Kjartan did as he was told. Sprouting his wings. Once more it was just as simple as moving a limb, yet so weird since this was still so knew. they immediately folded up behind him. The feeling of wings was still so strange.

Pushing open the two great doors, the man gave him a nod forward. Seeing his mother, he watched as she went through so many emotions. Anger, shock, and love. Her scarlet eyes filled with tears. The two ran to each other and hugged.

"I thought something had happened. I thought we lost you." Both turned as Askel chuckled, near guffawed at his wife's words.

"Elizabeth, he is a dragon! The beast' teeth couldn't break his skin." He paused. "Well… I think it wouldn't." He cleared his throat and raised a pausing hand. "Regardless, I think it's time we get into training." Kjartan smiled but turned back to his mother. A groan and irked face catching his attention.

"You've already made your decision, I can tell. Well then," She stood, brushing her silver mane back over her shoulder. " _I'll_ teach him in my ways, you gift him in your ways. Deal?" The man nodded.

'What _ways_? Father's a dragon, she's human! What ways could she…' The few teachings of language, history, and _math_ came crashing into his thoughts. 'No. No. No. NO!' Luckily a certain scoff brought him out of such thoughts.

"Please, with dragon arts he'll have no need of vampiric arts!" The hall was silent for a bit after Askel's assurance. The only other noticeable thing being Mother shaking in visible rage.

"You… big mouthed, shadow spitting, whisker having, scale bag of the east!" In a flash an icicle the size of Kjartan zoomed past Askel's skull, thanks to a well timed sidestep Kjartan saw as a blur. Still, his mind was more on the whole… vampiric comment. Either it was from the fall or all of today's events, his head was spinning! Dragon, vampire, all being real and he being those things. How's a young boy suppose to handle this?

Among the chaos he stood silent. Yes, life would get… not difficult but odd. Perhaps better? Flying seemed fun, though he would need to train if his blunder was any warning. How is it that he would? Their area was sizable, yes, but nothing meant for _this_. And magic? Not that seemed dangerous and interesting. Well, it is magic.

Even with the many flying spears of ice… that was strange to think about, he made a decision. Try to take everything with a calm stride. He had already seen a beast of legend, discovered his family ranked among tales for many lands, and talked to a beast within the nameless void. How could he not follow with his decision? Yet something choked him inside, saying 'You'll still be a fumbling idiot.' Maybe he was hearing things, 'Wouldn't be the first time.' He thought.

Trying to defuse the situation he barked out one bright side.

Now Kjartan smiled. "I get to be a sorcerer!" The thought overjoyed him. Shamans and other divine authorities were revered amongst many. Plus the prospect of tossing fireballs seemed rather fun.

"Battle mage would be the more appropriate term, son." His father assured him, all while blurring to dodge shards of ice. "I have to talk to some old friends. Kjartan, it's time for you to meet your family."

'Wait who?' And like that he failed… somewhat.

-The next day.

As he and his mother walked out of the great hall, his ears were graced with a powerful sound. Animalistic and loud. A roar. From the north came a flying serpent. A long body of forty meters, four legs, all covered with jet black scales. A long snout with faint grey whiskers. Eyes purple and slitted, just like…"Father?" he said.

"Do I need to grab a saddle Askel?" His mother asked, unfazed by the sight of the flying serpent.

"Please do. I wouldn't want anyone to fall." The serpent said rather bluntly. It landed right in front of Kjartan. Somehow it seemed to smile right at him. "Excited son? Why so confused?"

While a big part was the fact of seeing his father as a damn snake, something stood out to him. "I thought you had wings?" His question was met with familiar black and purple wings sprouting out of his dad's back. They were much larger than before. Quickly they retracted back into the scales.

"My father, your grandfather, was an eastern dragon. While they don't have wings they still can fly. My mother was a westerner so she had wings. _These_ wings. Your wings must've combined traits from your grandparents." He explained. In the moment Kjartan had to wonder, what would be his dragon form? He liked the look of wings, but the idea of merely flying on will was alluring as well. "Ah! Here's you mother… with a saddle. Hate the damn thing." He huffed.

"You never complained when I wanted a ride, darling." Both his parents chuckled, but Kjartan didn't get the joke. Once the saddle and bindings were on, Kjartan and his mother were on the back of Askel. With a running start he lunged into the air, his body moving up and down, side to side just like a serpent. With being on the back of a dragon, the world looked so different.

After a long ride, Kjartan felt the wind grace him as they dived to the ground. His eyes saw a large valley encased by looming mountains. A rather large lake to the east and flat land to the west. A dense forest to the south and a row of mountains to the north. Near the lake there was something large and purple in the flat clearing. The place could be a kingdom.

Once they landed the form became clear. As Father would put it, a large western dragon laid in front of the lake. Scales purple, horns golden and twisted. The flesh of the wings was rather pale. Same went for the belly and under bits of the tale.

"Nephew," Father boomed. "Enjoying a nap?" The purple dragon opened its eyes. Lavender where white would be and red surrounding the slits.

"Uncle, Aunt, cousin, greetings." By process of elimination Kjartan realized who he was of the three. His mouth was left gaped by the pure size and aura the dragon released. "Impressed? Name's Tannin." The dragon said rather stoically. Were all dragons like this or only ones of their family?

As he and his mother dismounted, Kjartan felt something tug on his leathers. A large claw.

"You, my son, won't be joining your mother in the cabin." His father stated. "Me and Tannin talked last night; We're going to train you through the year to be a flyer. This will include body exercise and flight practice. I don't need to explain the latter's purpose, but we'll make you stronger with physical training." Kjartan gave a small cheer. Oh how he soon regretted that.

Hours passed, Kjartan was chased by both of the dragons. What made him feel pathetic was that they were going easy. As in a they didn't exert any real energy. As for him, he collapsed around… fifty times. Humans would have died many times before, but having an awakening body helped. Though it was still hard to not become exhausted. He had the body of both a dragon and human, but he had never properly trained. Today was the first of many that would include him running from Tannin and Askel While they kept more practical training to the grounds, the south part of Scandinavia was for everything else. This included a certain dragon hurling meteor sized balls of fire, cliff racing from a serpent like being trying to eat you, and the occasional diving gods know how deep into the ocean. Between breaks some bits of information were given, whether it be from the dragons or vampire. Eventually, they returned to the hall and Kjartan couldn't help himself from collapsing. Before he passed out, he had one final thought. 'When I thought _better_ , this wasn't what I had in mind!'

The next day broke and Kjartan found himself on the floor. Only now he was laying on a fine fur. With his senses alerting him it was near the time to break his fast, he got up and went to the bathhouse. Each movement nearly made him grimace in pain. The sores were prominent _everywhere_. Now, he didn't expect to _see_ the physical improvement, he just didn't expect all of the pain. But he figured he couldn't really complain. Life was going to get better, if not more enjoyable at the very least.

In his dream he was above the clouds, flying at incredible speeds. He felt powerful there, more so than now, and he wished to fly like that soon. As for the voice, it had been bothering him ever since he heard it. Funny how you're mind will drift even when two primordial beast are hunting you. While he didn't tell anyone, he had a plan. The voice mentioned him being weak, so his goal was rather simple. Get stronger and talk to the strange… Kjartan didn't no if saying man or woman would fit.

But what then? It also spoke of being damned. Damned if he wasn't better than he was now? A matter both simple and rather overwhelming. Survival of the fittest made it simple, but being a… as his mother put, 'Draconic Dhampir' merely dying was a frightful thought; Powerful, respected, feared, revered, worshiped, hunted, prized, all words describing a dragon. Is there really something that could kill him? As for the vampire in him, mother said being a dhampir made common vampiric weaknesses null. A few lingered, blessed water, places of worship, blessed weapons. At least the more common abused weaknesses were nothing. Light both of gods and the sun, dragon hide and elemental affinity resulted in nothing when attacked by flame. if he could eventually train and master every art his blood would allow him, then he'd most likely be unstoppable… 'No,' he thought. 'Dragons might be immortal, but _not_ _invulnerable_.' Before more thoughts lingered he dried off and left.

Once he was done in the house, he walked out to a truly terrifying sight. His mother had a razor and shears in hand.

Kjartan shook his head, his mother only nodded. "You wouldn't want unkempt hair getting in the way of training, would you?" She asked.

This went on for quite some time, to the point that Askel had to come out of the hall and pull them back. Right as he thought there was a chance of his hair being safe, his mother tossed him into a seat. Said woman quickly appearing behind the chair and getting to work. He looked to his father for help but Askel only frowned. "Can't bail you out of this one son. She won't be the only one to do it to you. Trust me, they _all_ do it."

"And who is _they_ , dear?" Both Kjartan and Askel had horrified expressions. The ladder's reasoning being because of the incoming scorn, and Kjartan out of pity for the fool.

Dragons have fire and fury, but women have _scorn_.

As he got his head clean shaven (which he was rather sad about, he loved his hair) Kjartan was lectured about many times Askel had shown such "insolence and arrogance!" His mother's words, not his.

After they broke their fast, a rather large meal, Kjartan and his father walked out of the hall. Askel's body shined with a purple light and he took dragon form. "Alright, to start off lessons you'll glide to the grounds." Kjartan gazed to the general direction, and was confused.

"I can't make that." Kjartan replied. Askel loomed his head rather close to Kjartan, puffs of black flame rising from his maw.

" _ **Do it now or I'll-"**_ Without hesitation Kjartan unfurled his wings and got a running start. Yesterday Kjartan saw what those flames could do. During a brake Kjartan followed his father. The elder hadn't said why they were going off, but still he followed. Curiosity lead him to see a familiar sight. The wolf that caused a jump in his life had appeared again, now broken and bruised. It snarled at the sight of Askel. As it thrashed and cursed, Askel prepared the fire in his belly. Through a choked maw he spoke to the broken dog. "Soon you shall be with the others. It was one thing to come and challenge me, but to attempt to harm my child..." A short moment later and black flames consumed the wolf. When the flames disappeared, there was nothing. No ash. No bone.

Snapping back to the present, Kjartan lunged and dived in the air. It was still difficult. While he got the hang of building momentum by diving, he used it for traveling some of the great distance. But even when he would shoot back up, he was still losing original altitude. Halfway, he met this conclusion since he was a few meters from kissing snow again. With landing being something they "skipped" in the past lessons, he improvised. Bringing his wings in, he balled up. He rolled a bit on the ground but came to a stop. One arm outward on the ground, the other covering his core, a knee bent, and the other out.

That was messy.

Grunting, he got up. Looking around he took a deep breath in and out. If he was able to fly it'd be some short time to reach the grounds, but on the ground, he had an hour. He decided to relax and take a slow walk.

That lasted about five minute up to the point of Kjartan escaping an inferno of black flame.

Hey, at least he found out that with a heat he could get upward momentum.

Once he was in the grounds, heart thumping, he saw his mother. He was about to question how the hell she got there, but remembered his father was fucking dragon. They flew.

As he walked over to her, he notice something. Her left land was giving off a small bit of icy… smoke wasn't the correct word. Mist, one could put it. Yet her hand looked completely fine. 'Great, as if it we needed more cold.' Kjartan was never bothered by temperatures, but seeing ice magic here of all places both seemed idiotic and fitting.

"Kjartan, today we begin-"

"Magic lessons. _Fun_." While Kjartan wanted to laugh his main focus changed. Having your body encased by ice from the neck and below will do that.

"You're quick to guess. Now, first lesson is to never make someone who is more powerful than you upset."

"Pretty sure that's just a general rule…" He whispered.

"I heard that." His mother said. Kjartan could only release a lighthearted chuckle.

After he thawed, they practiced different magics. Offensive, defensive, and just about everything else and in between. Where a hatchling lacked in skill, they made up for it in raw reserves. Oh, he still struggled. The first problem was getting him to actually perform a spell. It would play in two ways. Kjartan putting hardly anything out or casting something unintentional. After hours, and many internal rants, Askel suggested using a different technique. Father and son sat across from each other, Kjartan's back to the lake.

He did as he was told. After cursing himself out from being without focus-like a dragon should have-he thought only of breathing in and out. Then it was onto his surroundings, yet he was still told to keep his eyes closed. Minutes, perhaps hours passed, yet he felt something. Strange would only begin to describe it. An alien flow of realising something and bringing another in. He felt rather happy and peaceful as this went on. Once he opened his eyes he saw that it was dusk, but that wasn't what caught his attention.

A strange violet aura had surrounded him, the plants around him had strange spirals of energy flowing in and out and connecting to him. Before he lost this, he continued his meditation. Getting an idea, he had the sole thought of melting the snow around him, and bringing life back to the grass beneath him.

Minutes later and his thought became reality.

Afterwards, on the flight back home, he was told what the strange technique was. In the far east they called it senjutsu. To focus on one's life force and the flow of energy in the surroundings and others. The strange art could also be used to manipulate the elements in some strange cases. Shifting an element to a complete other for example. With dragons being truly immortal beast, it was much easier and safer to use and not become corrupted from outside sources. The strange part about it was that in reality this wasn't considered magic, yet had high magical similarities to many... arts.

Askel revealed that in truth he began lessons to help with, in their language, simply put as Life Force Manipulation. LFM to be quick about it. While the named art of the east held some properties of this style, a dragon could make much more use of it. Being able to sacrifice a decimal of an infinite force to create, destroy, manipulate... the list could go on.

But one would still have to keep their internal flow calm and peaceful, or commit to being an evil dragon…

~The rest of the year was strange to say the least.

Each and every day he would break his fast and head to the training grounds. In the first six months he would have to ride or glide there. Now eight and more athletic, he could fly there. At the training grounds, he'd push boulders around to work all the parts of his body. Afterwards he would pull himself up with the small hands on his wings. Tannin made a wooden pullup set. Unlike other supernatural beings, a dragon's wings are a piece of their bodies. Unless they were an eastern dragon, physical care for wings was essential. While most dragons were able to freely fly Kjartan was restricted by being so young and being near human civilization. After recovering his energy, Tannin would chase him around the fjords from the grounds to home. But flew through _every_ fjord they could find.

Next came culture lessons.

This actually fascinated Kjartan. He learned draconic history and culture from both his dragon mentors. A lesson revealed that to summarize the draconic races-dragons, wyverns, amphipteres, drakes, lindwurms, and wyrms- the word dracons is often used. There were still many other lessons. Proper phrases and etiquette, body language. Debate was a subject most dragons engaged in, sometimes ending up in a furious battle, but afterwards being resolved. To say that a dragon is passionate about belief in anything is an understatement.

Other lessons would mostly included life force manipulation. It proved quite useful when deflecting attacks. Turning your arm from one made of flesh then to stone for parrying a tree was good, but hauling an arm of stone proved to be an annoyance.

Next came magic.. After what he dubbed the dragon trials, he'd come home, rest and eat lunch, and give it his all with magic. At first the most he got was a gush of embers. By the eleventh month he could sling fireballs like he was made to. When it came to ice magic he excelled the same. After magic came simple education. Math, science, language, and most importantly history. His favorite subject being of the wars in the south. It was strange knowing that nearly all divine beings that were worshiped or feared existed. He asked more of the east. On the topic Shinto gods and dragons from that part of the land were discussed. Something his mentors seemed to avoid was India and the spirits of Hinduism. Oddly they would brush it off, though one day Tannin gave him a an elusive answer. "You'll learn more when you're powerful enough." Now why the hell did his power matter when it came to basic history?! The world was vast with so many dangers, wasn't knowledge power in this case?

Into the nights came lessons of vampire magical combat. One night after supper he went to the training grounds. Finding his mother standing in the middle of the lake. She urged him to simply walk. Trusting her, he quickly ran across the liquid without disturbing it. From her back sprouted ten large, sickly pale wings. Shaped like a bat's. She turned around.

The once gracious woman was now purely vile. Her features sharp, and eyes glaring with predatory want. Her once silver hair now almost white.

"I am half vampire." She began. Oddly her heart beat was actually there, incredibly slow though. "My magic comes from my father, the original vampire, Cain." Her voice was coarse and filled with hate. But in a flash her wings disappeared and her features were normal. Kjartan was half shocked and half thrilled. With the body of a dragon, and the magical force of a vampire king...vampire magic… oh where to begin?

With shadow manipulation he could make himself invisible. Only for twenty seconds in the beginning. He watched as his mother could turn into a cloud of bats and appear in the air, disappear from sight for minutes. Shadows enveloping her for many minutes. Then came the aspects of vampire physiology. Unlike dragons she could fly without flapping her wings. As she said, "They were extensions of my magic." After serious examination, it was revealed that he didn't have vampiric physiology. Well… not fully. His blood had some vampirism. Both a good and a bad thing. It was uncertain if he could sire underlings without the full condition, but this meant he still avoided pureblood weaknesses, and gained only advantages. Well, holy water wouldn't taste good… Back to the point. This also explained why he enjoyed night flights _much_ more than other hatchlings.

Being a beast commonly associated with death, and the grave being more of a home than a looming thought, cold wouldn't bother him and ice would be another elemental affinity. This added to three. Fire and air from draconic lineage, and cold or ice from vampiric. On the matter of siring any underlings, with the previous statement, he would need to experiment. With human and dragon aspects within him, blood was more of a way to gain burst of power from lesser beings. As for higher creatures such of their world, he could, for a short while, gain a portion of their power.

In terms of combat and other techniques, turning into a swarm of bats worked, but was still flawed. Being inexperienced will do that. Luckily, he could deploy his real wings. As for his other wings, they were almost identical to that of a bat's. Difference being… well no bats have wings the size of his. Flying with them was a bit different, since it was more dependent on thought and will, as real ones just being movement like any other limbs.

For combat training, multiple times she consumed the training grounds in a dense fog, only appearing to fly past him in a blur. Clashing with black claws against whatever he could.

One magic that stuck with him was the Star of Souls. An ancient magic, used by Cain to drain his brother's heavenly life force and transfer it into his own. With the body long gone, the True Sire hunted the soul of Abel. Once found, he unleashed the evil art. A sphere of blue, darkening as one saw into the core, chased Abel for ages. Each angel lost whatever made them holy and powerful, becoming weak and human. Even the devils who wanted to kill Cain for one reason or another fell the same.

When the star caught him, Abel lost every ounce of supernatural force within him. All of this raw power the star gathered traveled back into the brother, asserting Cain as one of the most powerful Kings of Hell. All of that holy and demonic force became his own, certifying his bloodline as one of the most powerful in existence. From Elizabeth, one could guess that only the art passed down, not the gathered power. But with such potential… even she could fight with gods.

And so, Elizabeth Niac, was a bastard child. Half blooded, yet quite powerful and being able to call upon the Soul Star. And for a mere few seconds, so could he. When it came to other vampiric magics he grew slowly. Shadow manipulation being the one somewhat excelled at. What mother dubbed as "One's Nightly Form," appeared lock. What this form was he had little knowledge of, only being told that it would increase his power while in it. Unlike with India and Hinduism, it was unclear because the form had a characteristic to change from user to user.

Today was one like many. With dusk arriving, he was being chased coming home from the southeast. He had kept a slight jog up, a speed humans considered sprinting. He needed the break, but a certain dragon and his son had other intentions.

Behind him landed his little cousin, Bova. The youngest of Tannin's, and the… most headstrong. His appearance was that of his father, save for the missing golden horns. Instead having scaled horns going up and back away from the rest of his skull. "C'mon, I think the old lizard is lost!" Bova boasted. "Can't believe he made us go from northern Europe. The amount of times we he had to switch and carry!"

"I know!" Kjartan groaned in agreement. Yes, they began in Europe. Northeast. From there Tannin and Askel hunted the two hatchlings. Even at twenty five Bova had a reputation for being… Rebellious. Back to the tale at hand.

A few times Kjartan became weak and his cousin would have to hold him by the shoulders during flight. Other times, Kjartan would have to propel himself with great force to push Bova. The reason being was that Bova would choose to argue over flying. It took Kjartan's absolute power to steer the idiot.

Halfway Askel had to head back. With him disappearing in the purple light of a circle, Tannin heard the last instruction's from the elder.

"With fire and fury, have them fly with velocity like no other."

Now they entered a clearing, both hearing a below of power and fire. " _ **BOVA!"**_ And so it seemed the dragon was outraged. " _ **I"LL THRASH YOU INTO HELL!"**_ Before Kjartan could think of anything to defuse the situation, Bova guffawed.

"Please, I'd toss an old drake like you into the ocean no problem! Why the hell am I even here? Some useless training!?" And now the fool earned the comet flying towards him, Tannin was a man… rather dragon of fighting and training. Where his other sons mirrored him, Bova did not.

'Oh this idiot.' With his parting thought Kjartan launched his wings with a powerful downbeat. As he flipped and turned to face home, and sudden gust of heat graced him. The fire of the meteor fireball had somehow given him elevation, even though it merely passed him. It would have been a great moment of discovery if not for the screams of a certain Brave Crocodile. Still he continued his flight home.

Now nearing a cliff opposite to home he landed. Well, what one could call landing. In truth he merely met the ground with a roll. Unlike his first or second shamble, he stood at the end of it. Now he got a minute to lay down and think. 'Damn all, I'm sore. Why the hell did Bova have to cut back into the mediterranean! Cut us off by hours… at least he praised me on the mountain stunt.' A soft sigh crept out. "This life is not so boresome at least. Perhaps…" He had no more words. "Perhaps what? After these days, what am I to do! Yes I am young but I've no passion, no-!" His rants were cut off as Bova shot above him. Trees fell from his wings. Before he could protest and the fool flying so damn close to town, a roar sent him running and then flying.

Now as he was flying home with Tannin chasing him he got an idea. "Tannin, give me some fire."

"What do you mean?"

"Breath some under my wings" In an instant he felt the fire beneath him, along with a rising force. With his face up Kjartan flapped his wings against the flame. In under a minute he was up the mountain side. He saw the snow caped forest that surrounded home. The lessons was over.

Kjartan hid his wings as he entered the hall. "Father, we've returned."

"The kids even learned a thing or two. For once." Tannin was now in a much smaller form. Three meters in height was still impressive. **(Roughly ten feet for all my 'Murican readers. I'm just doing metric to sound fancy 'n shit.)** Bova laid sprawled near the fire, some black spots marking his hide. His usual height of two meters making him look like a fine kill of a massive beast.

The bold had sprout up. " _Learning_." He scoffed. "This it torture. Even Kjartan knows it!" Bova called out before collapsing again.

Askel laughed and Tannin groaned. The former got back on track. "They're always learning Tannin." Father called from the second floor.

"Yet they still pull foolish stunts. Passed through a crack in a mountain. Kjartan nearly killed himself trying to escape me."

"Did he live?" Father asked.

Tannin seemed taken aback by this. "Obviously he lived the kids right next to me!" Tannin yelled in frustration.

"Then it was wise. What lesson did you learn today Kjartan?" His father asked.

"Fire can be used gain height, even when it's passing." Father cocked an eyebrow. Kjartan was rather confused as to why.

"If you did, good, but there's another lesson. Primarily relating to what you did with the mountain." Father replied with a sigh at the end. The boy had to think for a moment.

"Use my surroundings?" Kjartan replied.

"The kid's a prodigy, clearly!" Tannin japed. Kjartan took the jab a bit too personally.

"Why are you always mocking me?" He blurted out.

"Respect belongs to the elders and the experienced. I happen to be both. You're only eight while I'm near a hundred. I've faced off against dragons who would kill most my age and won. Fire, claw, fang, choose the weapon and terrain, I'll best you."

"Getting back to the point. How would you say Kjartan is doing?" Tannin looked down at Kjartan. The boy's heart raced. He wanted to hear how he'd improved from all the months of training.

"He still has much to learn. Could easily be bested." His cousin replied

'What?!' Kjartan was shocked at the dragon's words. "I've improved so much though!" He glared at the foolish elder. "I can actually land plus I fly through the forest without even being touched!"

"Calm yourself son!" Father's voice was completely stern. Kjartan turned back and saw Father with a puzzled look. His nose had a little twitch. "Tannin, didn't we cast a cloak?" Kjartan looked back to his uncle and saw that his eyes were wide.

"Damn, the townsfolk probably saw us!" Tannin replied. Kjartan was scared. He had never seen his family react like this.

"Tannin, head back with Bova. This might be an incident."

"I'll teleport back home if that's alright. Maybe search for some useful things." Father nodded and a magic circle appeared beneath Tannin. Kjartan was awe struck by it. So many different patterns formed the lining and in the middle was a massive meteor engulfed with fire. All of it colored purple. The same appeared below the young Bova.

"Kjartan, relax as much as possible and sit by the fire. Your mother may be gone for a bit but I'm sure you can handle yourself." Father told him. "We have some time before they make the climb but I can smell the Earl from up here. I'm going to meet them halfway and try to feed them lies." Father grabbed his furs and left the hall.

The boy sat silently in front of the flames. Every now and then he would glance at the door. Half of the time thinking about flying off again. The other half thinking about the villagers. Why did it matter that they saw him and Tannin flying? Neither of them brought any threat to the humans. Now he had to act differently. Though it wasn't comply alien to him.

Over the past months he experienced numerous changes. Before he was timid and nervous. Never talking back to his parents or any elders. After the training began he changed. Once, while taking a break near the ocean he told his cousin about how he felt all the change. He wanted more in life than what he had been through. The urge to sneak out of the house and fly took over every other night. And the town seemed to call him.

" _It's natural when you think about what's happened." Bova explained. "Since your dragon instincts kicked in you'll act more and more like one. Right now the youthful joys are filling you mind. The nest doesn't have the same temptation as the sky. And I'm sure one of these days we'll see the fire in you unleashed. But the body tends to mature after the mind. Give it time cousin."_

He did give it time. Every time he tried to breath fire he only got a sore throat and aching chest.

When Father walked through the hall he was surprised to see men from the village with him. All were wrapped in furs and armor. An axe and sword either on the belt or in hand. A few had bows with quivers to match. One man stood out. His hair was a pale blonde and his eyes were a green lit fire. Unlike everyone else in the room-excluding Kjartan-he didn't have facial hair.

"That's your boy, Askel? Why hasn't he greeted his Jarl?" The strange man asked.

"You are not my nor his, Aldon. You are only here because of the sighting." Father's voice was somehow uncaring and serious at the same time. A small smirk on his face.

"It is good to see you as well. May we share the food and warmth?" Aldon asked with his own wry smile.

"My fire is always open to you." Father replied

As they walked past him, violet met green in a short stare off. "He should still be respectful towards his elder." Aldon commented.

'Why should I respect someone like you?' Kjartan thought to himself.

"He's frightened. I'm sure all the children in the village are feeling the same with the talk of a dragon." Father gestured. "How about we discuss this at the table. I'll fetch some mead and meat." The men followed the cue and seated themselves at the table. A lot of them glanced over at Kjartan.

'As if I'd be scared by Tannin!' He thought. Kjartan focused his flow to the men. Putting aside their boasting and cold gazes, many of them were frightened. 'So much for it only being the kids, idiots.'

-Askel

He brought out the old map and gave the men at his table a glance. He didn't need to say anything and they all cleared it. He laid the map across the table, leaving no more room. "If we are to deal with a dragon we must create a battle plan. First we must figure where it comes from from. Then, we have to figure out _how_ to fight it. While Beowulf's tale is great it's also fantasy." He said.

"And what do you think we can do about it Askel?" Aldon questioned.

"Simple. Aim for the wings. Without them the thing won't fly. He'll lose a great advantage over us. We can draw it here," Askel pointed to the middle of the map. "We'll have plenty of open space to take the wings and move around the attacks. For now we need a signal for whenever we see the beast. I have a better view of the area. When I see the beast a bonfire will be lit. We all should meet halfway from my house to the village and move to wherever the dragon is. I suggest you create a fire as well."

"We need specifics if we're to be serious about this." One of Aldon's men said.

"I have a few ideas for weapons. They would have to be set up in the field. We shouldn't waste time by crafting them in the village then hauling them to the spot." Askel replied. While he did have a few schematics and improvement in his mind he wouldn't give them the true weapons. 'The true weapon cannot be used now. I have to wait. Improve it.' "As for the kill, I suggest giving a good bit of honor to the man who delivers a killing blow."

"Plan on being a dragon slayer Askel?" A man asked. He internally smirked.

"Maybe. But I cannot say who will kill it. With so many of us I doubt it'll be a dull fight. Think about what history would say about you. 'The new Beowulf!' The bards will sing of our battle. 'Legend reborn!' A proper way of being remembered!" Now he smirked on the outside, just like all those around him. Yet he did for another reason.

Just like a wicked devil, he used their greed as a weapon. Aldon even gave into the foolish temptation.

They all left the hall with full stomachs and smiles. Boasting about how they'll kill the mighty dragon. Askel cleaned the table and finally rested at the head seat. 'Gods they are annoying. How does Kjartan see appeal in such creatures? Speaking of him… Kjartan!" he called out. The boy came rushing back in the hall.

"Yes father?"

"You'll be waking up earlier and training longer. Not by much but enough to make improvement. When Tannin gets back he and I shall talk about your combat training. Sound good?" Askel was surprised to see smile on the boy's face.

"Definitely." His son replied. The boy rushed back outside and he heard popping of joints and leather against leather. Kjartan was off.

Once Askel had rested in a chair, his enchanted mead horn in hand, he glared into the fire. 'My son, you've excelled well, but the road ahead will be tiresome. The old blood flows through you, a _god's_ blood. Not only will his black flames shroud you, but the cold of his grave shall seal you.'

~Kjartan.

After his late flight and dinner, Kjartan went straight to bed. He didn't act on Father's will. With training about to become more vigorous he would need the rest. He tried to close his eyes and fall asleep but the sky once again called him. Whenever he would begin to motion out of the bed, it felt like he relieved himself of a great pain. When he would slip back under the pain became more intense. Yet it wasn't physical. It was mental. {Go.} The voice kept telling him. {Be free and unleash it all.} He never told anyone about it. He would bare through the painful urge. He had to now of all nights.

Soon Kjartan felt himself launched into a black void. The same as the day he got his wings.

 **{Damn the fool who did this to me. Damn him into my flames. I'd curse him if I could.}** Now the exhausted voice called out… but from where? He heard the voice externally now. **{I'll kill them all. Each and every last one who's to blame. You, child, are you ready?}** Kjartan could only shake his head. _It_ released another groan. **{That bastard thought he had killed me. Me! An Asura! Bah!}** It scoffed. **{We'll unleash my wrath and envelop all who stand against us!}**

He had to speak up. "What… what do you mean by we?" Now the colossal eyes opened in front of him once more.

 **{From everything I can tell, you and I are one body with two souls. So, why not come to an agreement?}**

Kjartan proceeded to make multiple sounds signifying how flabbergasted he was. "Agreement? Two souls?" He violently shook his head. "I think I would have noticed something like this a long time ago!" The voice merely laughed.

 **{You're half dragon, quarter human and vampire. This life was only awakened when you were seven. Many realizations are to come hatchling. And all things considered you're reacting well.}**

"My life has been flipped many times over by the realization of what I am. I go through training that'll kill the greatest of humans, I'm starting to excel at vampire and three elemental magics, oh, and I fly. With that last one being my favorite," he smirked. "I think I should stop being shocked."

 **{Says the one who freaked out about another soul.}**

"IS THAT EVEN NORMAL FOR THE SUPERNATURAL!"

 **{WELL CONSIDERING I'VE BEEN GONE FOR AGES PERHAPS I WOULDN'T KNOW KID!}**

And so into the night the two fought in the black void. Bickering of the fact about even more contradictory statements said by both spirit and draconic dhampir. Even when the conversation covering what this… Asura knew, yelling was a predominant factor.

As for the now dubbed Asura and how he knew anything, things were cryptic. Both round it up to being just "revealed and unsealed." Gaining consciousness might do that. Was it a weak assumption? Most likely. Did they have anything else? Not really, only even more poorly formated statements. This just seemed the one with a somewhat strong hunch. How in the world he was bonded with Kjartan and in his soul had nothing to go off of. And so the night ended.

In the morning he was awake earlier than the when he met the wolf and got his wings. No trace of the sun was in the sky. A fine meal for all to break their fast. The elder dragons (Tannin and Bova) ate outside for convenience. As he walked out of the hall Mother yelled, making sure to remind Tannin to cast a cloak.

Without any warning Tannin grabbed Kjartan with his great claws. He took off without hesitation with Bova following behind. It was strange, since he would usually fly to the training ground. "Listen Kjartan,it's time to talk," Tannin began. "Askel and I talked. We'll push through this year with flight lessons. Next year we start combat. Physical and magical." This was terrible. If Tannin kept pushing him, how was he suppose to live?

"Tannin, I need combat! How the hell am I gonna match you or Bova!" he shouted.

"First off, you'll never match us." The father-son duo said in unison. "Second off we're gonna focus on physical strength today. This past year was a pre-test. Nothing even happened in my mind. Now we can start _real_ training!" Somehow Kjartan saw his cousins smirking. Kjartan on the other hand was flabbergasted.

"You're gonna kill me!" He exclaimed with anger.

"Shut it." Tannin replied. "I know for a fact you were hardly tired yesterday. Now fly!" He felt the mighty grasp disappear. Kjartan wasted no time. Using a set of faint black and scaly translucent eyelids , the wind didn't even bother him. He flipped his form. Diving with a smile. It felt great. The wind breaking from his force, the speed of his fall. Adrenaline filled him. Only a hundred meters from the ground did he launched his wings. The sky took his wings as air brakes. He was left to glide into the area below. Right in front of the lake was where he landed. A short hill ahead of him.

"Look out!" He heard Tannin. It didn't take a second to look up and learn why he gave the warning. A boulder was heading right for him.

He lunged to the right and dodged the rock. "What's your problem Tannin? You could've killed me!"

"Shut it and start moving the rock." Tannin said bluntly.

"What!?"

"You heard me!" Tannin yelled. By human standards you're pretty strong. But my... no, _our_ standards? You're still a hatchling. I might've chosen a mountain, and you might be in human form, but you still have dragon muscles, blood, and organs! Only one thing ain't dragon. Which would be very weird if it was." Tannin and Bova began to laugh. Kjartan was far too focused on the rock to understand.

"Whatever, I'll show you! I'll push this without even putting a fraction of my strength into it!" He called out. He got behind it and placed both hands on it. He took two deep breaths. 'You can do this Kjartan. You are a dragon!' With his last thought Kjartan began the task. At first there was hardly any progress. The rock moved but it was hardly noticeable. He would have to stop and exhale every time he was at his limit. 'Just when I get cocky…'

"You're doing it wrong! Gotta breathe out when you're pushing and in when you stop. Keep it up!" Kjartan did as he was told and continued fruitlessly in pushing the rock. The thing had to be at least octuple his own size in all ways. It was surprising whenever the damn thing would actually move a bit but it still wasn't enough.

"Why am I always doing something like this? I'm just moving a damn rock!"

"You're using just about every muscle to move it, working your entire body. Seems the best way to improve form."

"We couldn't use anything smaller!"

"Smaller is weaker, kid." Kjartan didn't have to look to know his cousin was smirking. He continued to push the rock for two full hours. Taking breaks when he needed to, he made decent progress. The rock was moved from the waterfront to the base of one of the mountains. He would move it from their opposite side. A Hundred meters or so. By the end of it he was exhausted. With what was left of his stamina, Kjartan dragged himself to the edge of the lake.

"Someone, " He began with a hoarse voice. "Warm up the water would ya?" Tannin remained lying down as he tilted his head. The dragon released a very small and weak stream of flame. Before he felt the pleasurable warmth Bova shattered the water with a sharp dive.

"You did good, for a hatchling." Kjartan ignored the jab and pulled himself into the water. It wasn't hot, but it wasn't freezing. Soon his draconic core would keep all temperatures from bothering him. But his undead aspect began nulling the affects.

"So," he started. "What's next? I think I can't do anything else. Don't tell me I gotta do that again."

"Not exactly. I'll leave that pebble as it is for you to move it up the hill tomorrow. For now you should rest. Flying's up next."

"Is there anything we can do that allows me be lazy?"

"Well, I could give you a history lesson. Sound go-"

"Snore, snore, I am snoring!"

"Brat."

And so as he drifted in the middle of the lake, Kjartan sank. Black waters becoming his surroundings, the faint orb of sun light shining a gray beam onto him. As he hit the bottom he burned away the muck. Opting to use LFM, he gave some of his immortal force to the earth. Soon the once slimy mud turned into smooth red marble with faint white streaks. Thirty minutes passed. Pure silence. He'd be fine. If his life became endangered someone would either notice or he'd beach for air. With strong lungs this was a simple dive. He began to think.

Before life was very simple. He'd wake up and do a day's work and enjoy his free time. But there wasn't exactly an abundance of things to do. They had the farm so hunting was rare. Exploring only earned him a lecture and the hall was so boring. Now, only because of that one day, has life changed so much. Training from, now, before dawn until what he hoped dusk. Father taught him about the culture of dragons. That was how he shifted useless uncomfortable sludge into pristine material. It was all in the mind. Speaking of which.

He focused on each word as he thought them.

{Can. You. Hear me?}

{Yeah.} The mental voice said. {I can hear you.} It released a sigh. {What is it?}

{Anything knew? If we're to truly do anything about our… predicament, then we'll need every memory you can gather.} Kjartan was both curious and worried.

{Not much. Some arts I could teach you, fragments of history… and…} Asura took a breath. {What could be my last memories. I battled with a being in the class of gods. My body snaked around the mountains, the rivers ran dry.} Kjartan's attention was on the image and words being one. {I converted what I had enveloped of the world's waters and unleashed a flame. Right as I began my release the memory jumps. My belly was scarred and my left hand lost. Many surrounded me. As I spat my last curse the god struck my with a spear of lightning.}

Before Kjartan could reply, he heard a thud. He rose out of the waters to see the wooden pull up structure was dropped on the beach. He released a loud groan. He got up and used his wings for the work out.

Once more Kjartan dropped as he was exhausted. Surprisingly Tannin made a proper fire in front of him. Somehow it had no wood but burned endlessly.

"Do all dragon fires last this long?"

"No. Only someone of our blood has undying flames. Enjoy it for now because in a minute, you'll be flying in the cold. Make sure to grab all your furs this time."

"That was once, Tannin!" Minutes later Kjartan was running up the hill, his wings stretched out and flapping. It took a second but he was able to set off. With a powerful flapp he flew up the mountains. As was the routine, he was chased by Tannin, Bova with him. The route might've been different each time but destination never changed. An hour passed and they were behind home. That's when they turned out to the sea.

Hours passed with very short brakes. The seaside cliffs were his course. Tannin was there threatening motivation.

Exhausted, they returned to the hall. As he collapsed to the floor by the fire, the last thing he heard was from his father. "Get use to this. The next four years will be like this."

'Four? What?'

-Four Years later.

As he passed through the clouds, he picked up in pace with a smile. Up here he could see the sun, feel the true freedom of flight. He glanced up. The heavens were above him, so close. He could practically touch the air and the gates of Valhalla would open. Then, a boom caught his attention. He flipped up and around to face the source. A large parting in the clouds was made. Tannin emerged from it.

"Get back here you little…"

"Angry cousin? Last I knew you should be out doing me!"

"I swear if you weren't so young and weak, I'd give you a proper thrashing!" The dragon spew a great fireball. Kjartan flapped his wings and smirked.

"I appreciate the boost!" Tannin released a loud half groan half roar. He flipped back around ad shot down. Breaking the clouds, he saw where they were. The mountains surrounding the valley were pebbles. Shifting his gaze to home, Kjartan moved his wings, aligning them above his legs. Now they would allow him a faster descent. He was an arrow flying to an enemy. It took less than thirty seconds to get near home. As he neared he saw a magic circle in the air. A meteor in the middle. With Tannin appearing from it, Kjartan fanned his wings up. The momentum from the dive almost made him crash into the dragon. Shooting right past the massive head, he turned around and hovered with his wings flapping. "What the hell Tannin? I thought Father told you not to use a circle while we raced."

"And I thought you remembered Uncle saying to meet in the valley. Get a move on-" Kjartan immediately made a hard flap. He smirked as he heard his cousin mumble something. Focusing, he thought of his hands coated in a flaming aura. Within a matter of seconds he was launched with flames. Once he was above the valley, he saw his parents resting by the lake together. A black fire by there feet. As he landed, Askel rose and switched into dragon form.

"Today we begin combat. Get the gear I left in the cabin and ready yourself with a apple. We'll-"

"I have an idea." His mother stood up. "Kjartan, as of right now, what would you consider your most powerful skill. Magic, life manipulation, or overall physical work." This actually got him thinking. The past years had been hard but the format was the same. The workouts got longer, the lessons were more detailed, and the reward was almost unnoticeable with his young body. But his reserves…

"Magic." He said with full honesty. While his mother laughter, the demonic eastern dragon only glared at him.

"You are a wicked woman, Elizabeth."

"Yet that's why you love me." Kjartan zoned out while his parents dished out half insults and half flirts.

{So what would _you_ say is my strong suit?}

{Magic. But your lessons with me should give the dragons a surprise.} His tenant said bluntly. Yes they had trained, but very little. Well, they had trained in few arts. Though usually every night would consist of him practicing in the void. Whether it be physical work outs, magical, or a combination, he did it with Asura's guidance.

"He excels at nothing." A cold voice caught his ear. He turned to see Bova above the water, his flaps creating weak waves, a wide smirk on his face.

"Bova… what the hell are you saying?" He began. "I admit... compared to everyone who surrounds me, I might aswell be human. But…" His heart began to race, the rhythm roaring in his ear. "I have never passed an opportunity to train. Not once have I shirked away my routine. That deserves some credit." He could feel his core burn, his hands became shaky fist.

"Yes, you have trained. But you'd die in a real fight." Bova replied, dry in voice, tone, and attitude. Tannin began his way towards him and Askel was already puffing black fame. Yet he continued. "I say this to be honest. You're parents are still sheltering you. Hell, I bet an ulfhedinn would kill you."

Before anyone else could move, Kjartan launched into the air.

~Bova.

His cousin came with a storm covering him. He could only grab the boy's fist. He felt something alien. A strange violet flame surrounding him began to burn his hide. He was both happy for his cousin and scared at the thought of his own skin burning. 'Just what I wanted.' His knee buried into Kjartan's abdomen and the boy flew up. With a powerful down beat he followed, observing the child. 'This flame,' He thought. 'Just what is it? My hide shouldn't burn, and his flame has only been the norm when casting.' Still they fought.

It was a back and forth, the two dealing blows to the other. As the fight went on the flames gained a black trim. Now it became too dangerous for Bova. He slung fireballs at the boy. His attacks would only be shaken off. Literally, the kid would just thrash around and he'd be back at it. Bova's stomach became dark from scorch marks, his maw staying close to stay away any fatal attacks.

Kjartan was a ball of fire and fury. His eyes two burning violet orbs, colored contrail like flames bleeding out. His surrounding flames making him look like a meteor.

Perhaps an hour had passed and now the elders engaged. Kjartan was a roaring ball of half black half purple flame. Tannin carried his son away into the forest, scolding him along the way. One could hear the battle by the lake still going on. Askel was trying to physically handle the wild child and Elizabeth began warding the child off. "Why, why did you start that? Now… he has…" His father asked.

"Finally found his fire?" He replied with a smirk. "Besides, why didn't you intervene sooner? He was starting to really harm me?" Still his shoulders were black, his hide should've healed by now!

"From what I gathered from the atmosphere me and the others thought it be a punishment for you to be thrashed by him. But the moment his body became coated in flames, we were frozen."

Bova scoffed. "By a little kid?" His father laughed as well.

"By a little kid with vampiric flames and Vritra's!" Now Bova's legs stopped, Tannin dragging him until he noticed. "Bova?"

He ran his good hand over the marks. His heart thumping. 'No,' he thought. 'How…' he shook his head. "I… I could've been…" Then it hit him. What would happen if Cain's magic took him? Dragons, born from masses of energy within the universe... "He's a dragonslayer." Now Tannin was silent, his lavender eyes looking back. Bova fell to the ground as his father ran back.

* * *

 **~(Author's Note: Acknowledgments, Explanations, other things. )**

 **Well… now that was interesting. Finally I'll be able to edit and submit the start of this.**

 **First I must admit something. This story draws similarities from a rather popular fanfic for HDXD called,** ' _ **Holy Inferno Dragon'**_ **by author G1Splicer. Similarities follow like this;**

 **Half dragon mc.**

 **Dragon father**

 **Unique flame.**

 **Sacred gear with ancestor within it. (Sorry if that's a spoiler, I thought I did a good bit of foreshadowing.)**

 **And that's it. No focus on aura, bonds, scale arrays, and NO Tartarus. (Ok there's one more thing but I can't say,** _ **real**_ **spoiler there. But for the mentioned ones, they won't make any appearance.) If others appear, well shit then I done fucked up.**

 **I say this to all of you, G1Splicer especially if he/she reads this, my intention is not to copy off a popular story. And I am truly sorry if it comes off like that. It wasn't and still is not my intention while writing them. I'm simply here to have fun in writing a story. Honestly I'm a little disappointed with this chapter. This is my third or fourth rewrite and it still feels like it is, to be blunt, shit. For all I know 10k+ words is nothing. I dunno. I could have a terrible, messy shitstorm on my hands because of my lack of writing experience. I do not know. That's why I encourage all of you who review to be as blunt as possible. If you think this is the equivalent of the nightmare of literature that was Twilight then say so. I can't say the opposite because it wouldn't be true.**

 **Moving on, explanations.**

 **If anyone is unclear, Kjartan is the grandson of Vritra (father's side) and Cain (mother's side.) Elizabeth was a bastard, born from a human mother. That is how Kjartan is still able to hold a sacred gear. Speaking of which, I will not say which of the seven gears he has. Where I got the number… I'm pretty sure it was somewhere on the wiki that there were seven and Saji has four towards the end of the LNs. Oh and don't worry, I know Blaze Black Fire is suppose to have black flames. Kjartan's flames are colored because it mixed with the Star of Souls magic. Now I know with his bloodline, and maybe some might think he's OP right now. Though let's remember a certain Satan can spin with a wand and blow up a country two times over. But don't worry, Bova was bullshitting. Kjartan could kill packs and only gain a slight sweat… if he could sweat that is.**

 **Now as to how he was able to harm Bova, who has years of experience over his older cousin (technically)... well, the flame wasn't the only thing. If any of you know of a certain power of dragons you'll know how Kjartan was able to act like that.**

 **Ok, enough filibustering. Updates don't have dates or structure. Tonight I might be able to upload another chap. Depends if I just want to copy paste and edit some of the old versions or just flush stuff out. Besides that, maybe once every two weeks, possibly once a month. For length, I simply write and when I feel it's good, I'll stop.**

 **As for the plot I have three things to say. This is AU. The more I think it over, it** _ **could be many**_ **chapters before I reach the beginning of canon. Got gears to steal and things to fuck up along the way people! Oh, and Kjartan and the other OCs WILL NOT BE DEVILS!**

 **~Nerdy out. (Sorry for any fuck ups in spelling and grammar.)**


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: I do not own the original property I am making a fanfiction of. All rights and ownerships are reserved to the original creator(s). I am merely making a fanfiction and make no profit from it. Same goes for any concepts and material from other properties that appear. Images used belong to the original creator(s).**

 **Rated MA, for language, sex, violence, and other mature content.**

* * *

Author's Note: And here we are with the second chapter. Thank you to all who followed and favored. Truly, I appreciate it all! I apologize for the month or so of silence. Just got caught up, y'know? Meh, All Hallow's Eve is overrated. Everyone forgets turkey and family drama day! Man I want some pie now. (Fuck I just re-read this now I _really_ want pie.)

I have a bit of a question. Now, I have a very good outline for pairings and plot. Those are two things I _probably_ _**won't budge on**_ (But hey suggest away, people will do it regardless). But with a certain situation arising soon, Kjartan _could_ gain a bit of lightning affinity. Honestly it wouldn't have a real affect on the plot. It'd more act as a bit of… irony might be the word. Hindu mythology and all that with some other stuff. But honestly I'm stuck thinking, 'Well shit he'll just be ridiculously powerful.' Then I think about everything I've set up with draconic powers & LFM and vampiric powers. So would _one_ more affinity hurt? Cain's 'Star of Souls' implies some _ridiculous shenanigans._ But I mean in the soon-ish future. We got thousands of years to reach canon, he's getting someone with lightning/electric prowess. Just may or may not be soon. Idk. Enough rambling, endnote has more ranting!

 **Review-**

 **Mailbawx-** Thank you for the kind review!

Glad to hear that the similarities aren't glaring, though I wouldn't say based off. I really don't know what word to use...

Pacing was something I thought I might fail at with all the time jumps. Glad to hear that it wasn't terrible.

And for his power, I hope the thought doesn't change with this chapter, especially the first scene. Plus I like watching someone progress with time. Not "Ten years later, MC is now Satan level."

Again, thank you for the review!

* * *

"Talking"

'Thinking'

{Scared Gear Spirit/Host talking to another mentally}

 **{Sacred Gear spirit speaking aloud.}**

~Break in POV, time, and or location.

* * *

 _ **Chapter 2: The Fires of Blood & Bonds That Hold**_

* * *

~Askel

He lunged at his own son. The boy was in outrage mode for sure, if his burning eyes and skyrocketing power weren't already a tell. Each moment Elizabeth threw up a ward, he'd fly at it head first, shattering it like glass. That's where he came in.

As his son tried flying into the woods to find Bova, he'd tackle the boy with his arms. When the two struck the earth the boy's flame would burn the ground. Now they were at the bottom of the lake, a strange slab of marble pressed against his son's back.

'Good,' He thought. Covered in the water's black waters, he used the shadows to bind Kjartan's limbs. Now he struggled. He grabbed to the marble slab and lifted it out of the water. "Elizabeth." One word, quickly said, was all it took for ten scarlet wards to surround the boy. Slowly he carried it to the beach. Inside his son roared, sending shivers down his spine. "How... " he shook his head. "Damn that boy, now he's done it!" His tail struck the earth, claws digging deep into the black grass. He began to turn to the forest, before something drug him by the tail. He turned to see his lover in her savage form.

"Idiot!" She shouted. "Our son is like this and you're concerned about Bova?"

"I'm concerned for him, to the point I want to burn the one who did it to him! When it comes to dragons being outraged and the target, the dragon won't stop until one of the party's is _dealt_ with." He looked into the forest and back at his son. His heart sinking low. "He won't stop until he kills his cousin or he burns himself out. My heart aches for our son," now his throat felt like someone had put an iron clamp around it. "I don't know what to do! Either he burns out his own life force, or him and Bova go back at it. I need my nephews here." His head sunk low to the snow. His eyes covered in near black translucent scales. Snow began to fall upon the grounds. A shattering noise brought his gaze back to his son. One ward gone.

His tail was released. Scarlet and purple locked. Quickly he swapped back to human form to kiss her. Their embrace broke by the sound of falling trees, Tannin appearing.

"CLEAR OUT OF HERE!" His nephew roar.

The choking feeling was gone and his heart lifted only to race. "The hell do you mean? He could be in a critical state and your-"

"Listen to me!." His nephew cut him off. "Pure blooded dragons are born from masses of energy right?" Askel and Elizabeth nodded in unison. "We don't have another form naturally. Devils and angels simply lose access to their natural powers if touch by the star, am I correct on that Elizabeth?" His wife nodded. "What will happen if he launched a star at a dragon?" Shockingly he could hear her heart race. "Those flames..." Tannin trailed off.

"I… it's never been…" She ran towards her son, five scarlet magic circles above him. "Do whatever you can to seal him Askel. Tannin, go get your son." Both dragons quickly shot glances. Both shared a nodd before getting to work.

He poured large amounts of his own life towards the boy. Half of it going to bond with his son's, the other molding into a dome around him. The entire time he wanted to shed a single tear, but he would hold. He needed to stay strong. Needed to hold himself together for his wife and son.

Quickly he turned to scale.

In the barriers one could only see an inferno of violet flames with small streaks of black. 'Good,' he thought. 'That part is dying.' Still something lingered. 'Not once has he roared his flame.'

Soon the father-son duo appeared, Bova gasping. "Just how the hell-"

"Shut it and listen." Askel told him. "He's outraged and-" Another shater ringed through the clearing. Six of the wards in total were gone now. The sphere of violet and black consuming all.

" _BOVA TANNIN!_ " A pillar of violet fire enveloped all wards, barriers, and even the readied circles. As it cleared Kjartan was found in the stood on one knee, breathing ragged. Askel wanted nothing more than to rush towards his son. So he did.

Slowly he watched as his son trembled. Multiple times he tried to stand but fell back on a knee. This time, instead of tackling him, Askel merely curled his snake like body around him, leaving a good meter diameter around his son. Soon a purple dome surrounded them. Before he completed it, he called to the crocodiles. "Life force. Now." And so the two dragons fed their own streams into the weak boy.

As they were in the radiant dome he shifted back to the tall man. His hands gently rested on the boy's shoulders. In reaction the boy flung his head up, eyes still burning, teeth like daggers. But in a mere five seconds his expression fainted from savage to… neutral?

"Son, listen to me." The boy made no acknowledgement. "Relax. You killed him. Can't you feel it?" Lying felt like daggers in his heart, but he needed to do this. "Feel all the life pouring into you. Bova's life force is drawing to the killer." Now the boy glared up at the dome. Askel tightly hugged him. "Please… let this be over." He felt the body in his arms go limp.

~Kjartan

He walked through the black void with no destination in mind. He only hoped to find Asura. With every step he felt weak. To the point of when he was still living human life.

He could only make faint whispers in the void. "Asura!" he called many times. No response. Now he rested on all fours, a faint line of blood on his lips. He felt pathetic. Not because of how exhausted he was, but how he just lost it. Words were simple things. He shouldn't have gone this far. And now he payed for it. He cursed many times before his head hit the cold black floor.

Now a weak violet light shined upon him. **{Reckless doesn't begin to describe this.}**

"Fuck off," He coughed out more blood. "You think I don't know of my mistake?"

 **{I think you don't take it seriously.}**

If he had the strength Kjartan would stand. "You keep chastising me, yet you did nothing to aid the situation."

The beast had a light chuckle. **{That's why you're here. Besides, today we just learned how powerful you really are!}** Somehow he was enthusiastic.

"That's what you took from this?"

 **{... I might have a problem with this type of stuff. Anyways, trust me, if it had escalated I'd intervene. I merely saw no need to draw you in here before. With all who surrounded you I had hope everything would be… well what we've gotten to. You have a flame like no other. From everyone's reaction I'd say you'll be a force to be avoided at all cost.}**

Now he had his laugh. "Yet here I am, dying in a void, blood dripping from my own maw… yeah, real powerful." He supported himself on one elbow. "Bova was right. I am sheltered." He shook his head. "Hey Asura."

 **{Yes?}** The being replied.

"If I… once I get better," he said. "Remind me to go explore more. Head into town. I might be more powerful than them, but I still feel a draw towards humans." A few flashed in his mind. He shook his head to get rid of the thought. "I need to mentally improve. Socially as well." He watched as the violet eyes lifted in the air, looking down on him.

 **{Very well. Once you are strong we head out into the world. We both need it. You shall live life and I will see what this land has to offer.}** A violet light filled the void, the great body of Asura finally being revealed. In truth he was a colossal version of Askel, save for the violet eyes. While second to the World Serpent's true length, right now his body of seven hundred meters could beat Jormungandr's current six hundred. Yet even with this his thoughts only focused on those violet eyes. Just like his own.

Soon his vision shifted, now his eyes opened to the sight above the clouds. The sun had fallen and the moon was near its high point. From the leather his hand grabbed he could tell it was Askel's saddle, and he didn't need to guess who had a healing circle marked hand above his chest. She brought him into a strong hug, weeping. With a week arm he returned the gesture. "I'm… sorry." His throat was on fire, irritating with each syllable.

"Just rest," she said in a shaky voice. As he looked around he could see Bova flying to the right and Tannin off to the left of Askel, closer the to black dragon's head. Somehow he couldn't hear their conversation.

As he looked back to Bova his heart became heavy. Their messy fight caused by such simple words. He remembered how it felt to hear that his cousin had died. How he was on the verge of _smirking!_ It scared him, warranted some serious evaluation of his well being. To enter outrage mode for a simple reason such as this proved two things. He was a dragon and a stupid one at that.

Bova switched his position, flying above him. "Cousin… I-"

"Shut it." He cut Bova off. He sighed. "I don't need to hear it to know it." He didn't want to focus on the earlier events. Only took look and think forward. Taking the more literal of the two, he noticed Askel looking back at him. Releasing a soft sigh, he asked, "How bad was it?"

"Very." They all replied. His head slumped back to the saddle. "We're lucky that you pulled through at all. From what I can sense your recovery will take a while." Askel said.

"How long?" He replied.

"Months at the least. Not only did you outrage, but you poured out nearly...gods, ninety five percent of your life force with your attacks." The rest of the ride was silent. He mind ran rapid, everything crossing his mind at once.

'My flame… just what was it? Wait!' Quickly he stumbled to stand. His mother tried to tug on his nonexistent sleeve before he ran down the great tail. He stood near the end, gathered as much air into his body as possible. His abdomen hardened, a rising heat filling him. Roaring, he released a jet stream of violet towards the stars. As he fell back onto the scales he smiled. 'Finally!' A single tear of happiness left his right eye.

He woke in his bed. Instead of the pillows being more against the bed, now they laid against the headboard and he used them as support. Once the sheets would go up to his chin but for now they laid at his waist. He woke up early, both for transfusion consisting of life force and blood from animals. Damn all, swine tasted awful. When he napped he'd train with Asura. His slowly regenerating immortal force might prevent him from heading to the grounds, but he wouldn't lay and do nothing. It was very simple training though, not even in the mindscape was he better.

He would mostly do human level workouts with weights strapped to him, seals embedded to increase the intensity. Humans took risk by doing such training. So did he. Luckily his joints would heal after the muscles improved.

Meditation was kept up. Whether it be the art of the east or draconic LFM, he needed to improve. Both on how to wield and to become simply more powerful... and to not burn through everything. At least with senjutsu he could draw more into himself with the surroundings.

As he was awake, Askel scolded him once, telling him about the dangers of going too far. If he hadn't been stopped, a few things could've happened. In the chance of him naturally collapsing, he could have been aged back into a suckling babe. If he continued his rampage then he would simply die. The latter being frightening because even though they were supernatural, it was unknown where dragons went after death. Unlike other factions being religions to mortals and having their own realms, dragons only had a single world of The Valley. And since no dead dragon had been found there, it was presumed one would return to the universe as a mass of energy after death.

But still, Askel did not ruin the day. After many pleads he finally told some stories. Kjartan asked of the Dragon Kings.

First being one of the dragons of his homeland, Midgardsormr.

In appearance he was simply a large green snake, the only noticeable change being the two fin like appendages on the sides of his head. Being one of the serpents of the three current kings, he ruled the western waters of the world. Primarily the ones surrounding Scandinavia. Even though he is one of the core players of Ragnarok, the king simply prefers to sleep at the floor of the sea near his lands. Unlike his family, he has no interest in the apocalypse of the mortal world. Thankfully.

The came Fafnir, another Norse dragon.

Being the smallest of the kings, a gold wingless western dragon standing at ten meters and twenty in length, Fafnir might be the fastest of his rank. When it came to treasures and other oddities, he was an expert. In history he is the only dragon to come back after a true death experience. This has lead many to seek him out. As a result he is currently traveling the world, only appearing when the kings need to deal with something.

Then came the king of the east, Yu-Long.

In appearance he was a jade green dragon, shifting in size too many times to tell, eastern in looks, and strange personality. While oftenly referred to as the laziest of dragons, he did assist others in infamous journeys of a the monkey king. But that was only once. As of now, he is the most recently crowned and youngest of kings. Currently, it was said he was backing a king in a war off in the east.

Next came aspiring kings. As of now, only two had been ones considered at King's Meetings. One being Tannin, famed for using fireballs and having a charismatic warrior attitude, also being quite powerful. The other was a dragon the same age of Kjartan. She would be the first queen, Tiamat. Not much was known about her, only that she was purely dragon and _immensely_ powerful. She had to be, since that was the only known requirement to be at a moot.

That was it for the kings. As Askel headed off to do one thing or another, he was alone in the hall. After hearing the tales of the Kings, their attitudes, actions… he needed to talk to a certain dragon.

As he entered the mindscape he saw the being appear. Training gear soon manifesting by his claws. He wanted to shake his head but simply said, "No training for now. I want to talk."

 **{Of what? You're only at fifteen percent. Why not train?}**

He nearly scoffed. This man was dense, or simply forgetful. "Because I have other desires. Old fool." Asura half-moaned-groaned. "Anyways, I want your opinion on our kings."

Asura curled back up with a half opened eye glaring at him. There was a certain message, one he couldn't read. **{Why?}**

Now he did scoff and roll his eyes. "Answer the question you wyrm."

Asura half yawned half groaned. **{In truth I don't know. From the few memories there's very little. With some of your's….}** The dragon seemed to _smile_ at him. Smugly if nothing else. **{Lazy!}** His once smooth voice became a grating, thunderous laugh.

Kjartan smiled but was a bit worried. 'He laughs… at our leaders being lazy.

'Thor guard me.'

"I could not agree more." He laid in the grass field. 'Soon I'll bring it up. By the gods…' He shook his head. "We're leaving. Now." And just like that he left the scape and prepared the walk.

Wrapping himself in leathers and dark furs he left the hall. Hope in his heart and a weak smile on his face. Getting to town would be a matter simpler than anything compared to the trainin. Fitting in could become a different tale.

As he reached the outskirts two men with iron axes and round red shields came to him. Wrapped in furs with coifs and leathers beneath. One with a brown scruff lining his jaw and the other with wild blonde hair.

"What would you take from this town outsider?" The bearded man asked.

"A fire, mulled mead, and one day a woman in my bed."

The blonde one barked a grating laugh. "He's with wit like no other kid."

Kjartan nearly rolled his eyes. Older humor just didn't make sense. but he was glad. Having a small sense of humor at his age to fit these two could help. "So, may I enter or shall my balls freeze to my legs?" That was , however, fully intended for all.

The other guffawed. "Alright… alright. We'll lead you around town, but gives us this before." Kjartan looked him in his blue eyes. Said eyes shifted to the blonde man. A nudge of the head sent the man off. Once he was gone the man knelt down to him. Kjartan only being taller than him now oddly. "In the gods do you find strength? Do you hear and see their gifts?"

Kjartan was dense at time, he had to admit that. But he knew what the man was saying. "Some odd omen tells me that we have the same answer about it." The man stood and smiled.

"Truly, one has to be surprised to see you without your father and mother near. Is there a good reason as to why?"

"Only that they are off doing one thing or another. But if I may," He took a breath. "What are you. In terms of the true world. I sense a good bit of strength from your aura but, simply that. Strength. No element of or spellcraft."

The man simply shook his head. "For it is that which makes me true child. You know of berserkers?"

Kjartan nodded. "Men who commit to enragement in battle, often times said taking the form of a forest beast." He took in all the scents. "A bear?"

The man nodded. "And you a dragon. Without the need ot a battle you call upon your power. Many are jealous of that alone. Such beings like you seem so humble at times."

Kjartan rose a hand. "Please, you speak like I am such a creature. Truly I am draconic but I am like none of the ones that surround me." His eyes shifted to town. "Our questions and answers have been given and received. May we?" The man monitend his head towards the bustling place and they were off.

{That went quite well.} Asura commented. {How were you so... nonchalant?}

{Well… I have no reason to distrust him. And even if something did happen, I'd take of it. I'm a draconic dhampir!}

{Ah so you're also a boastful brat?}

{Bite me you old snake!}

With the mental link cutting off with Asura cursing he walked the old dirt roads of town. Greeting those who would actually come to greet him and nearly buying some crafts from the peddlers. While one like him could simply craft something better with LFM, knowing someone actually put time into it made him feel for it to have more value. Stupid in the grand scale but there was no harm to it.

The North port was filled with fishermen bargaining prime salmon and their wives offering shells. Closer to shore smiths worked with no shirt near the burning forges. Bronze shaping into daggers and accessories.

To the east many worked near dead fields to have some crop. One needed some grain to go with the meat. Perhaps he could help.

South was where one could easily see the two largest halls. One for the Jarl and his family, the other for drinking and the sort. Surrounding them was a small clearing and then all the homes.

Uhtred, the berserker, was his guide for the most part. Eventually the man left him. He appreciated the notion of trust but was a bit lost. Not of where he was but simply on what to do. Minutes passed, he walked the docks. Eyes following all the movements of those preparing for more runs, ears listening to the music from both the sea and singers. And something else.

Metal clinks.

Grunts and whoops.

Ragged breathing.

It was a fight. A good one if the heartbeats were any indication. And so he ran from the docks to find the circle. In one of the dead fields a circles had formed. Men and women of all ages gathering to watch. Slowly he passed through to see the fighters.

One was a girl. Near his height but a bit shorter. Near blood red hair and eyes matching. Hair rowed on the sides to stay away fromt the eyes more likely than not. She wore a iron coif that stopped at her neck. Brown leathers covering the metal. A whirling axe gripped in her right, a yellow and blue shield in the other. One could see fur pushing out of coif's ends.

The one whom seemingly charged without end was a boy just his height. Chestnut hair with see blue eyes. His mane was long and tied in the back in a ponytail. Attire made of dark brown leathers. The shirtsleeves showing a bulky form. An axe hacking wildly in his right hand.

He watched as the two clashed. Shields knocking weapons aside, axe trying to cut at the other. Whenever the man made a strong strike the girl would merely dodge or cast it aside with a shield smack. A stupid move leaving yourself open like that. But from the smiles on their faces he knew it was fine.

As the fight went on Kjartan could tell the boy was holding back. Not to mock the girl but because like Uhtred he was supernatural. Now looking at the boy and thinking of the man he drew a few connections.

{So this is what the young do for fun? Well I suppose that in such a boring land this would be the norm.} Asura snapped him out of the daze.

{Shut it. I'm thinking.}

{Then allow me to help! So, crafting a plan to make yourself seem better than the boy?}

{Shut it snake…. and no to your question. Merely remembering things.} In full honesty it became clear who the two were. The looks and yelling of their names were clear indications but who they were to _him_ was the rising thought. {Afia and Bjorn.}

{Wow… real subtle with the naming for the boy.} Asura muttered

Kjartan nearly groaned. 'Zero sense with elders, I swear.' Was his final thought before he went on to the fight.

From what he could tell both were very skilled. Afia had to be to even stay at this level with Bjorn. The boy seemed made to fight. With height and strength he looked intimidating even now. Certainly more so when he'll become a man grown.

As he watched Bjorn he had an idea. _Proper_ combat training had been held off because of the enragement. Perhaps this kid could help.

'Anything's worth a shot' His thought was met with a quick glance from the bear. Fading away in a storm of movements. 'Well… if his father could sense me…' And so he waited for the right time to approach. The fight went on for perhaps five more minutes, ending with the girl near exhausted and the boy wearing a smile.

Afia had a sour look. "Every time…" He heard the whisper, not knowing if others did. A few cheers were given, mainly to Bjorn, and Afia stormed off.

"Come now," Bjorn said. His voice somewhat low and sharp. "We do this for fun!"

Kjartan heard a snicker in the distance. "Isn't the only thing those two do for fun." This time he knew that the quiet tone was meant. Whom said it was up in the air as it was in a collective storm.

That was one annoyance he noticed. All the talking was ringing his head as the fight went on. Before there was no need to focus his senses to fit others. With him hearing the farest chicken squawk things had to change.

As for the smell... one could use imagination.

But with all the flaws a certain appeal was still there. Humans in terms of longevity are worthless. Even the ones who knew of the said truth still pushed into life. And those who lived with a small bit of bliss were admirable. Hell, if he found out about the supernatural and had nothing of it… that was something he didn't want to think of. With a small head shake he returned to the matters at hand. Now noticing Bjorn stand before him.

"So, an outsider wanders in, and views a fight. May I ask your name?" His voice was rather simple. He expected something… he didn't really know. But the simple pitch caught him somewhat.

His manners kicked in. "I'm Kjartan Askelsen. As an outsider I had hoped to find something to occupy me. Tell me if I can find anything of the sort."

Bjorn huffed some air. "Well, unless you want a good brawl with me, willing to stomach the mead, or even..." His eyes trailed off. His head turning back slightly. "Well there is something for those with our… well, caste seems fitting." Kjartan took the hint and followed. He thought that this was… a beginning to what he wanted.

But the walk near bored him to sleep.

From the edge of town to who knows where in the vas forest they went. The two remained silent. Kjartan's began overthinking. Creating situations and solutions in his head every five seconds. Asura counseling him to calm down, but he just couldn't. The thing that irked both beings was the lack of reasoning. Sure, you had the typical wandering where someone can't hear you scream thing. But Kjartan would be fine if something happened. In raw power he was still lacking.

'Thanks Bova.'

Back to the point. As the walk continued he thought of his way out if something _might_ happen. And only one thing kept coming to mind.

Bat Dash. He had hardly used the vampiric magic in him at all. Only for training and practice. But it would prove more effective than deploying wings, touki, or even simply running would not stand against it.

This was becoming an annoyance. He thought conversation would help. There were only a few things to ask.

"So you and Afia. That fight was…"

"Lacking?" Bjorn replied. His eyes didn't even glance towards him.

"I for one found it interesting. Getting to fight like that. I rarely get to do it at all these days.I have my opinion, but tell me, do you think she's good?"

Bjorn stayed silent for a moment. Slowing down. "Well for a human at her age she is very dedicated. But since I've only seen her fight me I make few conclusions. She'll never best me in a one on one combat. But many humans should watch out."

Kjartan rolled his eyes. "That might be an understatement."

"Oh," Bjorn turned to him. "How so?"

Kjartan wandered how he did not know. With a smile he gestured to keep walking and he explained. "I'll take your question as a sign of… well instead of saying that, I'll ask you this. How many human settlements are there?"

"I simply don't know. My education was based on what was really needed and combat. I only know of two places where humans really gather in this world. The town with Jarl Aldon and the place we walk to."

Kjartan thought he would dislike explaining things and discussing history with someone. But he enjoyed it, odd as that was. "The assumption is safe I assure you. In truth there aren't even a dozen. Even with the one we walk to the number is still low. Scandinavia has the most apparently. The town, two places south. Both east and west. Now four apparently."

Bjorn looked awestruck. His eyes shifting away but his mouth still a bit open. "That is…"

"Sad?" He asked. The boy nodded and his heart sank. "I know. Tonight I'll pray to Odin, wishing wisdom upon more of them.' Perhaps that was greedy of him. It ranged in his head. Another whispering about the values of power. For the first time in the while his blood ran cold. It stopped him completely.

"Kjar-Oh _Gods!_ " As he cursed Bjorn looked him dead in the eye. His face went to sad to angered. But more worrisome.

Kjartan's mind was crippled by emotions. A tremble was running, ankles paper thin and shins made of stone. He kneeled. _._

Breathing at a slow and choked pace. It was a horrid shift of hate and bloodlust. Every instinct said run but he could not move. His senses sped up and his eyes darted everywhere in fear.

" _Gods_ , what was that?" He asked. His hand held onto Bjorn's shoulder. The boy helping him up.

"I can only guess with you… but." His eyes darted. Kjartan looked to him but he caught it as well. A scent, or scents, of wet fur, rancid breath, and the sound of wild howls and whoopings in his ear.

"I know you just fell but can you fight?" Bjorn asked, with no reassurance.

Kjartan could only nod. There was no time to think alternatives. Only how to combat them all.

But he came to blanks. Even as he formed two steps an overwhelming fear and wave of emotions flooded him. He knew the battle _could_ be won. But something about the scent frightened him.

{You don't know where to begin do you?} Asura asked. There was no humor, only genuine concern.

{No not-} A sting of fear. He could feel it cutting his heart. Once more he began hyperventilating. ' _What is this?'_

{Time for that later.} That voice brought him clarity. {Just listen. You _are_ a draconic dhampir. Act as one with…} And so it came to him. Asura for, all his strangeness, was not a liar. He did have techniques to teach.

First _they_ called upon a great fog. Kjartan stretched the grey with haste. Around him and Bjorn it was thickest, almost masking the sun completely. Even now they could hear the attackers slow. Still going. On the outside it seemed stupid. Neither of them could see through such mystical fog. But Asura ordered more to encompass them, and to lay traps of fire.

Kjartan knew very few wards, only some could be now. Mind that runes alone were hard in teaching and dangerous in practice. This was hardly covered since his fit of rage. The ones he did had two could be used. Mainly a sensor, and of course, a fire rune.

In the tree lining he set ahead a ring of different runes. The first they'd reach was to alert him when someone. Behind that was a ring of embers reading to ignite once again. Whoever this was they had time to arrive.

"So you're actually aware?" Bjorn asked as he staked the ground. Odd, he didn't notice him making or having any.

"Simple terms please." He replied as he stretched the mist.

"I tried for a straight minute to just talk to you. But…" His eyes wandered towards a howl. "You just weren't there."

Kjartan was fully interested considering it was about himself. But he had to ignore it. At least for now. Asura continued. How to get ready. He undid his long furs. Now in his dark leathers he unfurled his wings. As for weapons, he seemed to keep to what he said once.

Two fist of growing and roaring flame. Not the violet oddity, just dragon fire.

He took a moment to breathe. "We got two minutes for them to get here. Mind explaining?"

Bjorn looked discouraged. "If it's a welcome party, we shouldn't be feeling this. But I gotta say.." He looked around what he could see of the clearing. "Fog… didn't know dragon's could do this."

'FUCK!'

{I'll be taking full responsibility.}

His rage could only increase. He wanted his vampire powers to be hidden. A certain trump card if the enemy doesn't know-

He stopped himself on those thoughts. He shouldn't be concerned about it. This was Scandinavia. Home to many of both worlds. Slowly he allowed himself breathing. The weight lifted, his mind becoming clear. 'Gods I'm a paranoid idiot.' His self-harassing-comments would have to wait, as loud roars of flame and wolf broke out. But that was what merely began the battle. A bit over half were still there, weakened as they are. Bjorn charged, plunging spears where he could. Kjartan could see the boy's form shift. Hair all over, a nasty snout, and a body of a fort.

The berserkers, acting vanguard of the northern armies.

As the bear behind him took the strong half, he was left with seven weaklings. Yet all of them totaled above and beyond their comrades. As Asura commanded him, the four charging were impaled by great icicles. The three remaining clashed head on, leaping far past their wounded. He formed a sphere of wind in his hand. Crashing two fist into the ground, he sent the three flying, _burning_ and screaming from the fire addition. With a brief moment of clarity he saw it.

Toros and legs were either blow away or far apart when it came to the ones on the ground. The growing fire searing the flesh. He never had to smell something so _wrong_ before. Near gagging him from the strong stench of it. And viewing it all, this was nightmarish. Icicles plunged deep making slick scarlet snow.

His fire tunes went beyond ruining the bodies. The forest around them became a blaze. The once thick grey fog was now a thin sky of ash.

With Bjorn he had slammed the second one into a falling tree. He turned to the last one. It merely snarled at him and tried to run off. Bjorn seemed to be no lumbering giant, but a force of pure strength and speed. Bjorn took hold and broke the half wolf against a tree.

Only a few remained. {Now find one that's intact.} it seemed Asura was not done instructing. He had his dislike of this situation, but did as he was told. Wrapping his furs to keep his face and breakfast, he walked around the carnage. There was one. A leg and arm gone but his wounds were cauterized.

{Shadows.} It didn't even feel like Kjartan controlled himself. Asura was merely commanding him now. The black around them coiled. Who ever this wolf was, he was about to lose everything. And the wolf knew it.

With a crunched form the wolf shot up, eyes glaring up at him. They were no longer the eyes of a killer. But simply someone deranged. He grabbed the top of the maw and gripped the right side of the wolf's face. Shadows rushing beneath his eyes. With a flame he began to almost branned the wolf. But that wasn't the purpose of all of this.

He was given the lines. "You send twenty or so to fight two younglings, a cub and hatchling. Neither posing any threat until charged by you all. Tell me the reason and your commander." It felt wrong. Not the questioning, not the use of his powers. But how he was just being used as a pup-

"It was…." He increased the heat. "An _idea-"_

" _Who's idea?"_ He roared. The wolf cried from how loud it was, and being face to chest didn't help with the range. A small trickle of blood came from his ears. A broken thing he was.

' _But usable.'_ With his thought he flared a flame against the wolf. Slowly the black eyes glared behind him. He saw all five in the reflection. Immediately he coated a leg in fire. With a swift turn and roundhouse he detonated the flame near five wolves. Before some could get up Bjorn already began to maul them. With a strong downbeat Kjartan launched into the sky, his evade hidden by smoke.

He took the moment to scan the battle. The most noticeable thing was a single wolf, circling the edge of it all. A wolf with a very familiar smell. Quickly he sent out a bat to spy on it.

Summoning more flame in his palm, he scorched the last few who were still trying to fight. He ignored all the noise, focusing on the task at hand. With his palms downward he unleashed a cone of flame.

A hollow cone.

Bjorn nearly jumped away, but stood holding off two wolfs. His berserker rage and form would gift him enough endurance. As the walls of fire entrapped them, Kjartan could see the last of the wolf's flying out. Burnt and screaming.

Kjartan had to smile at the efficiency of their killing.

~ Askel, New Crucible.

He had been pulled into the ending and beginning of another war.

He would've prefer to stay with his child, and wait for his lover to be back. But when he was told about Tannin and Bova, there was no arguing. Only his rage and departure. It had been a few melina into a new campaign. A rogue faction of Devas had taken a planet as their own, enslaving whatever inhabits there were.

But in their blinding greed, the small nine million forgot the guardians of this world. This realm.

After many encounters, the last years have been victorious. For all of them. Bova had entered High Class. While the boy scoffed at the mention of ceremonies, he enjoyed it all the same. Tannin had gained glory in the more recent slaughters. Earning his title of Blaze Meteor Dragon.

And Askel had enjoyed his new family.

But now it was family that would start this war.

He had been called after being told what happened and once it was confirmed. Tannin and Bova were near killed. It was in the middle of a small fight, but the power was all to familiar for dragons.

Indra's lightning. The same vile, and boisterous feeling crept over the battlefield, and two pillars of lightning almost killed his family.

Almost is not enough to kill a dragon, mind you.

With healing wounds they were sent back to the Valley, and Askel came to the currently forming counsel. Even though many _knew_ of him, Askel barely met new people. Luckily there'd be one person there. One he hadn't seen in a millennium.

Crom Cruach.

"So, we're to discuss this all in fifteen, correct?" His old friend told him. His head dropped, making him brushing away his black and gold hair. "This…" Cruach shook his head. "How has life treated you?"

"Good enough" Askel replied. He wanted to go into detail, but these walls weren't theirs. The area had been fitted for human sized beings, leaving the dragons to shift. Men were all around cleaning and marking the area. A wood akin to dark oak had been used for the walls, and an odd purple and gold carpet in the hall.

"Bah, you're too quiet." Cruach said as he passed the pipe. Askel accepted the offer, hoping for some mental relief. A long breath later and he handed it back. "There must be something you can talk about. I don't wanna carry conversations."

Askel shook his head with a smile. "Too bad. Maybe something later." He trusted the dragon, but wouldn't take anymore chances. Merely mentioning that existence of something notable was dangerous place, and the great area around it, was still being cleaned of traps and weakened fighters.

Cruach flashed a wry smile. "So clear and detailed." With a fingertip of fire he re-lit the pipe. "But, I have a feeling it'll be good. If not," He patted a hand on Askel's shoulder. "Then you are on depressing fuck." No smile. Only a pitiful frown.

'If that isn't true then I'm a wyrm.' He thought. 'Doesn't matter. I have my family, that's enough for me.' He tried to convince himself. It never worked, not once, but he still tried.

The double doors opened and they entered. An old office, kitted with a few stained orange windows, and a round table. Askel took the seat with the windows to his back, Crom Cruach took the seat to his right. Soon more dragons in human form filed in the room.

One man in his oriental robe spoke first. "His grace Yu-Long could not attend. I shall be his acting vassal for this meeting." He took a seat.

Quickly he held a hand to his northern friends. "I know." Fafnir and Midgardsormr wouldn't be here either. That leaving Cruach as his saving grace in this meeting. It wasn't a matter if there was trust between them, but if they would trust him. He didn't want to look at this situation as a great opportunity. But it was.

Askel and Crom would have to prove that.

"How is the tone?" He asked Crom.

Hi friend leaned forward, his hands flipping through reports. "Depends on how we should look at it." He began, brushing some of his gold and black hair away. "The inhabitants of this world are acting appropriately. Nearly ninety five percent are crying for a war, or at least, a punishment to be served.

"As for our people, many are reading to swear fealty. To different lords of course, hoping we're that simple." A few made lighthearted chuckles, shaking their head.

'That's good.' Askel thought. If He and Crom were to persuade them, then all of them have to be in the right mind. Unfortunately he could already see the of in Croms eyes

"A host of three hundred thousand is waiting for the good health of both of them. But it's unclear if that is there true motivation. Many groups would like to see a war between the faction, even the entire species of dracons, to fight Indra and other Devas.

"Battles are already inevitable, in short." Crom flashed Askel a look as he pulled his pipe out.

Askel prepared himself. "Now I can not see into the mind of someone like Indra, only remember my encounters with him. For millennia he had time to prepare for a full on assault."

"Yet he hasn't made a move until this…" One of the counsel said.

"My point exactly. None of our spies have reported movement from anyone of the Devas. If this is to be true, then I doubt this was a whim. It was clear by the death of Vritra and all that followed. Indra seeks war more so than we thought before, if he's willing to assit rogue gods and soldiers."

"So," Fafnir vassal said. A 'man' in a blue robe. "You suggest we retaliate? Do not allow your vendetta to blind you, son of Vritra. What good wou-"

" _What good?"_ And just like that his rage was upon them. "There is not _good_ in any of us this. But we are a people, a faction without match. Instead of helping ourselves we assist those who hide behind our protection. I do not mean to abandon our worlds, but priorites need to be set."

Yu-Long's vassal spoke once more. "I am to be a vassal, only meant to observe, but may I speak my mind." He said rather calmly. But Askel had seen the twitch in his brow before. "Askel, you no longer are a lord. You are an independent party now, one that allied himself with the Norse. What power do you hold here?" He saw the smallest of smiles when the vassal finished.

Before he could reply Cruach stood, entering a coughing fit. " _Power?_ Yes," Crom began with a hard cough. "Let us talk of power. The power I hold alone to charge Indra and his ilk. The ships and men I am more than sure Tannin will call upon. The wrath of any who aren't so-" Askel pressed a hand on Crom's shoulder. In trying to calm his friend he replied.

"Yes, I took up arms with the Norse. Only because when Indra came to my home, no one rallied behind my family. With my mother and friend dead, I had to flee. The one people I could that were ready to take arms."

"And still are." Fanfnir's vassall stood. "I would like to mention, if you, Crom, and Tannin do plan on retaliating, then the Golden King is with you."

"Insanity!" Another dragon roared. Samael was one of the few dragons Askel actually hated. It wasn't that the snake would not back him, but who he _did_ back. Heaven was not one to side with, just about all knew. But even now Lucifer's pet was eager to please the Father. "Indra wields the tool and power to slay near legions of our people."

"If we gave him the chance." Askel replied. "Tell me, Crom, what is the headcount for the draconic horde?"

The room was silent, save for the burning of bud in Crom's pipe. "Billions. Counting _every_ recorded and living dracon, we outnumber the enemy many times over."

"Some of those are children!" Samael retorted. "We need not to draft the population." He looked Askel in the eyes. "An army of reasonable size and power can defeat the lightning fiend. If Indra makes more moves, I shall be by the side of dragons. But I ask, for the people who do not want war, only rally those willing to aid."

"We would never draft." Crom laughs. "Do as you will Samael. But the people are crying for war. We were able to hold against the Vritra fallout, but such a new icon of the people going down…" Askel said.

"No one will forget it, especially with the circumstance. Rogues are usually dealt with by small teams, but the Devas made no such move for ages. Now Indra appears, striking down a war hero?" Crom asked. "People want blood. I say we give it to them."

* * *

 **~(Author's note: Rant and Explanations)**

 **So I can it seems that I can only upload after a month of silence on the eighth of a month…(I swear to god if this doesn't upload on Nov 8) In all serious though I do apologize for the gap. As I said before, got caught up.**

 **Also, I'm trying to fill the thousands of years before canon with something interesting. This is a huge sandbox that still needs to be explore in my opinion. POV will change, some characters won't be seen in chapters, and the cast is mainly OC and severely unused characters. So if you're expecting to see the ORC in five chapters the you are wrong. I don't have anything against fics that do the whole,** "Character has X background with X amount of strength and fucks everything in sight." **(Some of the funniest ones actually) But as of now, cast is mostly OC and will be focused mainly on the dragons I introduce. That's not to say the main cast won't be seen, opposite really. Red and White have a huge role to play, just... gonna take some time with getting there.**

 **And on the whole lightning thing, I'm setting up something with a lightning based fighter. Depending on where I go Kjartan could gain the affinity but I'm just… iffy I guess. For instance, he'll get light but that'll be so far into the future and he'll hardly use it. His flame and future powers-that actually mean something-we'll be plenty to use. Idk, just vote in the reviews I guess.**

 **Now some may have noticed the drop in quality(if there was any to begin with) compared to the last chapter of 12k and long paragraphs. I'll most likely go back and rewrite a lot of this, but I really wanted to this out. And wit the first chapter I had months of work backing it. A rough draft of 22k with a jumpy plot and poor development. (Lemon and everything… blegh.)**

 **As always, please be blunt in reviews. Mistakes are still plenty in the first chapter, even a contradiction I need to edit.**

 **~Nerdy out. (Sorry for any fuck ups in spelling and grammar.)**


End file.
